


An eye for an eye and an “F” for fight

by findyourwayhome



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Triads, And all that jazz, Frottage, Guns, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findyourwayhome/pseuds/findyourwayhome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s hard to define what Sehun and Lu Han have. Lu Han is all Sehun has, and Sehun is all Lu Han has. Sehun calls it love, but Lu Han has never allowed him to say those words – or anything nearing them – to him. </p><p>Or: Sehun and Lu Han are badass gangsters in 1900s Shanghai. They try to survive another day until tomorrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An eye for an eye and an “F” for fight

**Author's Note:**

> For harusky, who kindly bidded on a work from me during [EFS](http://exoforsichuan.livejournal.com/). This is almost a whole year late and I am incredibly, incredibly sorry for the delay. Thank you for being SO patient, I hope you like it! She requested for something along the lines of the drama series “[Shanghai Bund](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shanghai_Bund_\(2007_TV_series\))”. Loosely based in that universe – with gangsters, suits, jazz, and early 1900s Shanghai to accompany.

 

**9.**

  
The ground is cold and wet; the rain earlier had not been very heavy, but there’s not been any sun to dry it out since, and Lu Han can feel the gritty sand pressing into his knees through his pants, the rainwater soaking up into the heavy material.  
  
It’s dark and Lu Han wants to turn around very badly to look into the eyes of the kid he grew up with – the kid he practically raised on his own in the orphanage. He wants to see if he can find any shred of affection in them, any hint of regret. He doesn’t move though, or more like he can’t, because his hands are bound and the cold muzzle of the gun that is digging into his temple hurts. For all that Lu Han has seen and done, he’s  _scared_.  
  
He kneels there in the position that he had been pressed into earlier, listening to Sehun speak to Master Fung in hushed tones, trying to accept that he’s probably about to die. At the hands of the only person he would trust with his life, no less. Lu Han almost laughs.  
  
There’s a clipped and angry, “I understand,” and Lu Han hears the sound of feet crunching on gravel, doors slamming. There’s no sound of a car driving away though – Master Fung always likes to watch to be sure the job gets done, but he won’t be anywhere near the blood and mess, of course.  
  
The lips on Lu Han’s ear are soft and familiar, so much so that he almost leans into the touch before he catches himself. Sehun’s voice is comforting even in this circumstance, and Lu Han wants to believe him as he nips at Lu Han’s ear and whispers, “It’s going to be alright. You’ve got to trust me. You know I love you right,  _ge_?”  
  
A quick press of lips against his cheeks and then the warmth of Sehun’s body disappears. He hears him take a few steps backwards, and Lu Han can't help but cling to the hope that he’ll get out of this alive. That hope quickly evaporates as there’s a clink of the gun’s safety and Sehun says, “Goodbye."  
  
The times that Lu Han had been involved in any of the gang altercations that actually resulted in gunfighting, he used to wonder what it was like to be shot as he stood back to back with Sehun, defending themselves, watching bright red flower across the chests, arms, legs of people who dared to fight back. He had expected pain, but nothing like the intensity of it, three shots in his back which cause him to black out for a moment. When his eyes focus again with too-sharp clarity, time has suddenly slowed to frame-by-frame motion, each snapshot of grass, sea, moon imprinted in his mind, as he topples off the cliff.  
  
  
 **7.**  
  
There was a time when Lu Han had several inches over Sehun and it only took a matter of minutes to have him pinned down whenever they wrestled. It’s been years since then, but tonight, his anger (and the element of surprise) has Sehun backed up against the wall of their apartment in an armlock he can’t break out of in half a minute.  
  
He had come home early from the club that night to find Sehun at the door talking to Master Fung’s right-hand man, a familiar package of brown waxed paper tied up with twine hanging from his fingers. Drawing closer, Lu Han had overheard Sehun say, “—I dropped the first shipment off at the warehouse near the West corner. There should be 2,000 packages in total, each containing one  _jin_  of opium. They gave us one extra, for Master Fung to check. Here.”  
  
Lu Han had stood in shocked silence, hidden by the shadows cast from the lamp at the front door, as the conversation continued.  
  
“Thanks. If Master Fung is happy with this, we’ll arrange for you to pick up the second shipment one week from now. I’ll be in touch.”  
  
Lu Han can’t remember what happened next, or how he made it up the stairs to their tiny shared apartment. But right now, he’s got a hand fisted in Sehun’s shirt, heedless of how he’s crumpling beyond repair the starched collar he had so carefully ironed for Sehun just the day before, and shoves him hard against the wall.  
  
“You know what opium means to me and you. You  _know_  what it cost me, what it cost  _you_! What are you playing at? Why didn’t you say no!”  
  
Sehun doesn’t say anything and Lu Han tightens his fingers.  
  
“For three years I watched my father die a slow death, a living skeleton crying, ‘please, just once more.’ Your mother  _sold_  you for opium! Didn’t you say you wanted to see this sin cleared off the streets of our country as much as I did? Why are you helping Master Fung to spread it into Shanghai?”  
  
Sehun remains unrepentant, and all he says is, “No matter what, this will spread. It’s better that we have control of it this way. Master Fung is a good boss. You would do well to listen to what he says.”  
  
It’s only when Sehun gasps, “Lu Han- _ge_ , please,” that Lu Han realises his fingers have closed around Sehun’s neck, squeezing hard. He drops his hand, but the damage is done — there will be bruises ringing Sehun's white throat tomorrow.  
  
He is still standing in Sehun’s breathing space, and Lu Han sees the kiss coming before it happens but does nothing to avoid it. Sehun’s lips are harsh on his, brutal and biting, the hand that’s tangled in his hair tugging hard enough to hurt.  
  
When Lu Han abruptly pulls away and looks up into Sehun’s face, it’s inconceivable that this is the same Sehun that Lu Han has known for life. The same Sehun who  
still spends nights silently crying in his sleep for the mother that bartered him for drugs, the Sehun who once made Lu Han nick himself on the wrist to make a blood oath: together, they would stamp out the opium trade in Shanghai.  
  
Lu Han can’t recognise the cold eyes looking back unblinkingly at him, lips twisted in a wry smirk. He brings his fist up and Sehun flinches. It’s that movement, so reminiscent of the childhood Sehun when he’d been cornered by bullies, that makes Lu Han check his hand. Instead, he punches the wall and leaves.  
  
  
 **5.**  
  
Lu Han tugs on the collar of his jacket so it stands, warding off a little more of the cold. It’s unusually cool for a day in early autumn, and he hadn’t thought to bring along a scarf. He stops to watch the passersby hurrying along the strip of pavement that lines the Bund, takes in the sight of rickshaws and their passengers moving at a slower pace through the puddles on the road as they swerve to avoid cars. When he next looks up, the others are a distance in front and Lu Han quickens his step. He misses Sehun’s warmth, misses the hand on his elbow to guide him along as if Lu Han is some rookie, impatience and worry written into every angle of his body, so Lu Han hurries to catch up with the rest.  
  
He doesn’t usually have to come along to visits like this. Lu Han used to lead payment runs, but stopped ever since he had been entrusted with the jazz bar in Huangpu by Master Fung – that’s where he excels best, getting patrons to spend as much as possible on alcohol and girls. Now, Sehun usually chases down the monthly retainers with Tao, Kyungsoo, Yixing and a few of the younger boys, with one hand slouched in a pocket, the other casually hanging on to a gun. Sometimes, Yifan joins them if Master Fung doesn’t need him as a bodyguard that day.  
  
But today, Yixing had been called away by Master Fung on a special errand and everyone else was busy with their usual duties. When Sehun asked if Yixing could join Master Fung later so they could finish their payment run for the month, Master Fung had merely raised an eyebrow and said, “Take Lu Han instead.”  
  
Sehun always gets quiet and curt when Lu Han joins the rest of them for trips like this. It’s not like Lu Han can’t hold his own in a fight, Sehun just tends to be overprotective. It chafes that he’s older and more experienced, yet Sehun still treats him like breakable porcelain. At the same time – and Lu Han hates to admit it – he likes the feeling of being cherished and he loves the flush of happiness he gets whenever he looks up to find Sehun’s gaze on him, eyes full of love and concern.  
  
Lu Han learnt how to effectively use a pocket knife at age seven when he first joined the orphanage and some of the other kids thought his pretty face meant he was an easy target. He got his hands on his first gun at age 18 when he left the orphanage and was taken in by Master Fung. Now it’s six years down the road, and people still assume Lu Han must be the weakest link. That’s only true because Sehun hates that Lu Han is always the first to be attacked if things get violent and gets Sehun distracted from what he needs to do, leaving himself open.  
  
By the time they make it to their first stop, Tao is already leaning across the counter, casually asking for the amount owed, just as if he were ordering a cup of coffee from the old man who runs the coffee shop. Kyungsoo is chatting in a corner with some of the older ladies who frequent the place, while the rookies idle outside.  
  
Honestly, the boys have been doing it for years. Lu Han’s not sure why he had to come along. He slides into a chair and joins Kyungsoo’s conversation since Sehun is standing at the entrance as a lookout, all stony-faced and serious as Tao completes their transaction. Lu Han gets distracted and watches Sehun for a while, smiling to himself at the thought that  _finally_ , he can call Sehun his own, until he sees Kyungsoo laughing at him. Lu Han quickly turns back to avoid any awkward teasing. When they had eventually told the other boys about their relationship, they’d all joked and laughed and said,  _took you both long enough_. Lu Han understands the sentiment; he knows he is not a pretty sight when he’s mopey. He launches himself into the discussion and it’s not a chore, chatting with them. He knows most of these ladies and their families, the coffee shop is close enough to their territory that they recognise him. In spite of everything, they’ve kept the area safe for years from wandering hooligans and people looking to pick a fight.  
  
Things go fine until the second last stop. Lu Han is lingering a distance from the entrance, rubbing his hands together in a futile attempt to warm up his fingers when he sees a flash of silver in the corner of his eye. Ducking to the left, he spins on his foot and manages to catch the man’s wrist. That keeps the knife from connecting with his ribs but the guy is big and definitely outweighs Lu Han, so he pulls away easily. Lu Han grapples with him, trying to wrench the knife away. He feels his grip slipping – he can’t hang on much longer – so Lu Han twists away and aims a kick to get the knife out of the man’s hands. It doesn’t connect and he’s thrown off balance by Sehun, who dashes between them and delivers a few well-aimed blows, fighting low and dirty. While Sehun is slighter than the other guy, he’s also faster. Lu Han watches from the side for what feels like forever, Sehun parrying each blow in slow motion, before Tao and the rookies join him and they pin the attacker the ground.  
  
There’s always one or two who resent Master Fung and his men, or someone from a neighbouring gang trying to cause trouble, so Lu Han isn’t very surprised. It’s only minutes later, after he’s picked up the knife and passed it to Kyungsoo to dispose of, that he notices the blood dripping from where Sehun’s fingers are pressed into his side. Alarmed, Lu Han looks up to see Sehun’s face even paler than the translucent white it usually is as he falls forward to lean heavily on Lu Han.  
  
  
 **3.**  
  
Lu Han is just showing one of the jazz club’s regulars out into a miserable, steady drizzle when Sehun pulls up in a rickshaw, with Yifan not far behind in another. They both shake rain off their coats, and Sehun swipes a hand along the rim of his hat to check for damp. He’s got a cigarette dangling from the fingers of his other hand and Lu Han fights the urge to roll his eyes. He isn’t very successful, though, and Sehun flicks it away onto the curb once he catches Lu Han’s eye.  
  
“We just had a meeting with Master Fung and Master Li,  _ge_. Have to keep up appearances, you know.”  
  
Lu Han anticipates Sehun leaning down to kiss him on the cheek as greeting and ducks just in time to avoid it, but Sehun’s lips still brush his ear. Lu Han hates it when he feels like this, torn in two directions of want and wisdom, and his next sentence is more gruff than he means it to be.  
  
“Just get inside and keep out of trouble, Sehun. We had a couple of Bei’s guys sniffing around here last week, and we don’t need you to pick a fight and start smashing tables and chairs too.”  
  
Sehun’s flush of anger is apparent even in the dim glow of the sputtering lantern at the entrance, and Lu Han immediately feels bad. He reaches out but Sehun just turns and stalks inside. Yifan watches the both of them with one eyebrow raised, and Lu Han can feel his cheeks heating up too.  
  
“He’s not a kid anymore, Lu Han.” Yifan says. His tone is casual but Lu Han knows he worries about Sehun. Sehun, who is still one of the youngest but with lots more responsibility on his shoulders than should be the case. “It wasn’t easy, that meeting we just had. There are things they want us to do that I wouldn’t have Sehun anywhere near but he won’t listen to me. Talk to him, won’t you? You’re the only one he listens to.”  
  
“I know. I will,” Lu Han says. “Keep an eye on him when you can, please?”  
  
Yifan nods and gives Lu Han a friendly bump on the shoulder as he pushes past into the club too.  
  
It’s more than half an hour later when he’s done a round of the first floor of the club, catching up with some of the regular businessmen and getting to know new patrons as Coco Ruan, one of their most popular girls, croons words of promise and love into a microphone.  
  
It’s been a long night, and Lu Han is anxious to get to Sehun to apologise. What he hardly expects is to walk in on Sehun with one of the club girls in his lap when he finally heads backstage. Sehun has a hand curled around her neck and the other on her ass, long fingers pressed into the material of her  _qipao_ , his face buried in her chest as she makes encouraging sounds.  
  
Lu Han stifles a noise of outrage, ready to back out as if he never saw anything, but Sehun hears him and lifts his head to smile lazily, his mouth smeared red with lipstick.  
  
“Lu Han, hi. Sorry about—” Sehun makes a gesture towards the girl still straddling his thighs and gives another unrepentant grin. “Just getting ah— acquainted with little Yanzi. She’s been here three weeks and you’ve never introduced us?”  
  
Lu Han ignores him and strides over to them both, grabbing Yanzi and pulling her off Sehun. She stumbles a little and if his fingers dig a bit too hard into the soft flesh of her arm as he steadies her, he can’t find it in himself to be sorry.  
  
“Go get ready for your show, you’re on after Coco.”  
  
She protests, “It’s not until another half an hour, Lu- _ge_!”  
  
“Well, you’ll need all that time to fix it so you don’t look like a hooker anymore, right?”  
  
The hurt expression that forms on her face does finally serve to make Lu Han feel a little sorry. He knows it’s out of character and a little unfair. He’s usually patient and kind with the girls he manages but tonight, an ugly emotion he refuses to put a name to had welled up in him when he saw Sehun together with Yanzi.  
  
He’s distracted enough watching Yanzi leave that he doesn’t notice Sehun get up to stand behind him until Sehun places a palm on his cheek.  
  
“Jealous, Lu Han?”  
  
The words are cold, mocking, and Lu Han immediately scoffs. “I was just concerned for our business. After all, a businessman doesn’t compromise his merchandise.”  
  
But Sehun just gives him a knowing smile, stretches and straightens out his pants and shirt, not even bothering to hide the semi hard-on he has. Lu Han is too slow to move this time, and Sehun kisses him on the corner of his mouth before he leaves.  
  
“See you back at home later.”  
  
Lu Han doesn’t bother to acknowledge his goodbye wave.  
  
  
 **1.**  
  
Eighteen probably isn’t too young to have killed your first man when the backstreets of Shanghai have been your playground growing up. Lu Han is still violently sick. He stumbles and throws up on a patch of sickly grass growing through a crack in the road. He stands there heaving until the ringing in his ears dies down, and there is nothing left in the alley but a body at his feet and blood on the road, his shoes, his hands.  
  
His throat still throbs from when Master Ying had wrapped his fingers around his neck and commanded him to open his lips. It’s not the first time he’d been the object of unwelcome advances at his job at the teahouse, but it’d been the first time anyone had tried to force him to take opium.  
  
He’s swipes clumsily at his mouth trying to get rid of the taste as his mind fumbles through possible reasons he can give Matron Lee for turning up back at the orphanage shirtless and barefoot. There’s no way the bloodstains are coming out of either his shoes or his shirt. He should probably drag the body behind the bushes, and he needs to find somewhere to wash his hands. The man he just killed was rich and well-known and he’d probably have people looking for him any moment he needs to—  
  
“Hey kid, relax. I can take care of this.”  
  
The voice comes out of nowhere and Lu Han whips around to see a man standing in a nearby doorway. Lu Han’s eyes flick to the pathway behind the man, weighing his options for flight.  
  
The guy continues on casually. “Nice knife handling you got there. And don’t think about running away, I’d catch you in a minute. Look, I work for Master Fung, you know you’re on his territory right? I’ve got a deal for you.”  
  
He steps closer towards Lu Han, and Lu Han may be scared, but years of fending for himself has taught him to stand his ground so he wipes his hands on his pants with a show of nonchalance and tilts his chin higher to say,  _go on_.  
  
“Why don’t you come join us? Master Fung can always use an extra hand.”  
  
Lu Han licks his lips and fights the urge to back away. It’s one thing to understand that the various areas of Shanghai are ruled by mob bosses, but it’s another thing to join them.  
  
“Hey, look, it’s your choice. You can come with me, or you can leave. It’s just that I know the foot patrol makes a round here, say, in about 10 minutes. Someone is going to find him. And a little bit of questioning in the teahouse will reveal that you were waiting on him in the private room tonight.”  
  
Put that way, there’s not much else Lu Han can do.  
  
That night, when he snuck back into the orphanage in borrowed shoes and shirt, was the last time he saw Sehun for two years.  
  
Sehun waited up, like he always does, except Lu Han is extra late tonight. He’s calm and stoic when Lu Han explains to him the circumstances, gives him a fierce hug and kisses his forehead goodbye. The only betrayal of any emotion is heard in the determination of his parting words; “ _Ge_ , you know I love you right? I’ll look for you and join you when I can get out of here.”  
  
Lu Han smiles. “That’s right. We’ll be fine as long as we have each other, okay? I’ll be waiting for you.”  
  
As Lu Han leaves, he turns one last time to see Sehun. His face is shrouded by shadows and the image of six-year-old Sehun, dirty but dry-eyed, standing silently at that same gate all those years ago when Lu Han first found him abandoned at the orphanage entrance, suddenly comes to mind.  
  
He tightens his grip on his bag and walks away, willing himself not to cry.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 **2.**  
  
It’s been two years since Sehun joined Master Fung, enough time for him to establish himself within the gang and take on more responsibilities. He’s lying in bed watching Lu Han fuss over his suit, the one he’d specially gone out to get tailor-made the day Master Fung announced that Lu Han would be taking over the jazz club management while Sehun gradually assumes the rest of Lu Han’s previous duties.  
  
It’s getting a little ridiculous that Lu Han has tied and re-tied his bowtie about seven times now, so Sehun sits up and says, “look, if you do that one more time you’re going to be late and that is seriously a way worse offence than a slightly crooked tie.”  
  
Lu Han huffs but finally turns around and mock-bows. “Young Master, how does this suit your tastes?”  
  
Lu Han looks good, and the question hits a little too close to home for Sehun because it’s  _exactly_  to Sehun’s tastes. Lu Han in anything – or nothing – is to his taste, really. Instead of voicing his thoughts, however, Sehun gets up and tugs on the lapels of Lu Han’s suit jacket so that he can fix a little gold brooch on it. He watches as Lu Han’s eyes widen in surprise, his face breaking into one of those wide, unguarded smiles Sehun loves seeing, such a welcome change from when they used to live every day in fear.  
  
Sehun clearly remembers the day Lu Han found him standing at the front gate of the orphanage. A typical miserable dawn in autumnal Shanghai, Sehun had watched, curious, as a boy snuck out of the heavy wooden gate, a small cloth bundle slung over one shoulder. He had silently shut the gate and crept away – walking straight into Sehun.  
  
He can recall the indecision on Lu Han’s face as he looked longingly down the empty road, and back again at Sehun, taking in his bare feet and grubby clothes, with a similar cloth bundle grasped firmly in one dirty hand. He’d finally made a decision after several minutes and held out a hand to clasp Sehun’s, pushing open the gate and chafing Sehun’s smaller hands with his own to warm them up, all the while chattering away with a stream of soothing babytalk.  
  
“—you poor baby, you must be frozen. How did you get left here without any shoes in this weather! Such a cute button nose you have, Matron Lee will fall in love with you, I’m sure—”  
  
Matron Lee had not fallen in love with Sehun. Sehun knew his faults: his nose was a little too upturned to be a cute button, he was a sullen child and never smiled unless it was at Lu Han. Worst of all, he was the son of a “filthy opium addict.”  
  
It never used to matter because Lu Han was his, and his alone, and he didn’t need anything else. Not money, nor Matron Lee, nor any of the other children. It became natural for him to trail Lu Han around everywhere as they grew up together and Lu Han was the best caregiver Sehun could have ever wished for. Sehun supposes that somewhere along the way, he must have fallen in love with Lu Han.  
  
It was only later, when Sehun watched Changmin get whipped in the courtyard as an example of what happens to naughty boys who try to run away, that he realised the significance of Lu Han’s bundle the day he found him and what he sacrificed to take him in. It was only later when Lu Han would crawl into his bed at night after he had come back from his job at the teahouse, deep purple bruises blossoming on Lu Han's wrists and neck, that he understood that desire to leave. And it was only later, when he had stood at the doorstep of the orphanage, watching Lu Han leave for good this time, that he realised what it meant to feel truly alone.  
  
Before he left, Lu Han had given Sehun a tiny gold brooch of a bird in flight to remember him by. It had been the only item of any worth that Lu Han’s father left him when he died.  
  
“—Sehun? Sehun, let’s go. You were the one saying we’re going to be late, yet there you are stalling.”  
  
Sehun pulls himself back into the present and hurriedly grabs his hat. He ushers Lu Han towards the door, his hand on the small of Lu Han’s back, guiding and familiar. Sehun locks up behind them and nudges Lu Han towards the stairs, but not before pulling Lu Han in for a quick kiss on the forehead that he is a tiny bit too slow to dodge.  
  
  
 **4.**  
  
It’s hard to define what Sehun and Lu Han have.  
  
Lu Han is all Sehun has, and Sehun is all Lu Han has. Sehun calls it love, but Lu Han has never allowed him to say those words – or anything nearing them – to him.  
  
Sehun lies in bed waiting for Lu Han to come back from his shift at the jazz club. As he waits, he thinks back to their days at the orphanage and smiles to remember how it’s just like all the years he’s stayed up to wait for Lu Han.  
  
Lu Han has two reactions when he’s angry. Sometimes he shouts and breaks things; sometimes he goes all quiet. This is one of the times when Sehun fully expects Lu Han to come home in a violent temper, and he’s braced himself for an argument. After all, he’d messed around with Yanzi because he had wanted to get a rise out of Lu Han. Anything is better than Lu Han pretending that they are nothing more than best friends.  
  
True to form, Lu Han comes home and slams the door shut, storming towards Sehun on the bed as he kicks off his shoes, one side hitting the wall with a loud  _thump_. Sehun is ready to give as good as he gets, and he moves to get up so he can use his height as an advantage to stare down Lu Han. Before he can do so, Lu Han climbs into his lap, pushes him down and kisses him fiercely, teeth biting and punishing.  
  
It takes him a few seconds to process what’s happening but when he does, Sehun reaches up to grab Lu Han closer to him, kissing back just as hard. It’s like they’re both trying to prove a point by seeing who can take control of the kiss. Sehun tangles a hand in Lu Han’s hair and cups his face with the other as Lu Han fists a hand in his shirt to drag him nearer. It’s hot and messy and even if everything motivating this kiss is all wrong, Sehun doesn’t want to feel bad if this is what it takes to get Lu Han to finally touch him. Lu Han’s mouth is hot and addictive and Sehun knows he’ll never get tired of the sounds Lu Han makes when he strokes his tongue against his.  
  
Eventually it’s less kissing than it is the two of them just moving warm, wet mouths against each other. Sehun’s got his fingertips dipped down the back of Lu Han’s black dress pants and he strokes his thumb idly over Lu Han’s hip bones as Lu Han pulls back first to breathe, still keeping close enough that Sehun can feel the puffs of air on his face when Lu Han speaks.  
  
“You’re  _mine_ , Sehun. You can’t let anybody else touch you! Just— don’t touch anyone else? Please—” Lu Han says, his voice breaking on the fricative. Sehun is too stunned to react immediately. This is more than he could have expected from his stunt at the club earlier.  
  
Lu Han takes his silence for reluctance and says it again, fiercer this time. “Did you hear me, Sehun? Don’t look at anyone else the way you look at me again!”  
  
“Okay,” Sehun replies.  
  
“I’m saying I want you the way you want me and you shouldn’t— wait. What?”  
  
Lu Han’s bewildered face is adorable, like he had not expected Sehun to give in so easily, and Sehun gives in to the urge to lean forward and kiss him again. Tiny, gentle kisses to brush away all the confusion and hurt off Lu Han’s face. He’s so happy to finally hear some form of declaration from Lu Han that the rush of warm happiness he’s feeling threatens to bring tears to his eyes.  
  
He pulls them into a sitting position and takes both of Lu Han’s hands in his. “Lu Han,  _ge_ , it’s always only been you. I love you. Won’t you let me love you?”  
  
Lu Han’s face crumples. “I’m sorry, so sorry, Sehun. I know I’ve been avoiding labelling what we have for so long. But I’m scared— the others— Master Fung, they’re not forgiving about things like this. Tonight, Yifan seemed like he thought there was something going on between us.”  
  
“Shhhh. Don’t worry, Master Fung doesn’t have to know. The others will be fine. We’ll figure it out together somehow. We’ll be fine as long as we have each other, remember?  
  
They fall asleep like that, curled up together with Sehun wrapped around Lu Han and their legs tangled together, just like they used to all those years ago.  
  
  
 **6.**  
  
Sehun tries not to wince when Lu Han hauls him into their apartment and pushes him to sit on the sofa as he bustles about, grabbing gauze and antiseptic. He carefully pulls back the bloodied folded shirt that Tao had sacrificed as makeshift binding to inspect the wound. It’s a clean one, shallow, and the bleeding is slowing. Sehun whispers a prayer of thanks to whichever relevant deity had been looking out for him that the attacker had not been crazy enough to use a rusted knife and gingerly presses the cloth back against the wound as Lu Han comes back with a bowl of warm water.  
  
It’s not the first time he has been injured in a fight. He’s had wounds way worse than this – like the time someone from a rival gang had snuck up behind him and tried to knife him in the kidney, or the one when he’d jumped in front of a shot aimed at Master Fung after negotiations for more turf had gone wrong. Each time, Lu Han had been there to dress his wounds, each time, he’d had that haunted, worried look on his face, as if he blamed himself for putting Sehun in such situations.  
  
Lu Han pushes the rest of Sehun’s open shirt off his shoulders and draws him to sit at the edge of the sofa so he can access his wound better. It’s the first time he’s been injured since they’d finally worked out some of their issues and Sehun can’t stop looking at Lu Han, watching his long fingers work quickly to cut a piece of gauze to size. Now, it’s okay that Sehun wants to kiss Lu Han’s frown away, it’s okay for him to shiver in pleasure when Lu Han accidentally brushes a finger against Sehun’s nipple as he leans close to wind the bandage around his torso.  
  
The whole time, Lu Han doesn’t say anything and Sehun waits until Lu Han tucks the end of the bandage in and checks to make sure it’s secure before he pushes away all the first aid things and tugs Lu Han into his lap to kiss him. He kisses the crease between Lu Han’s eyes away, then each eyelid before placing a sweet, chaste kiss on Lu Han’s lips.  
  
“Hey,” Sehun says against his lips. “Hey, I’m okay, alright? It’s not your fault. I was stupid, and I was careless. I’m fine. It’s just a small cut.”  
  
Lu Han pulls his hands away from Sehun’s grip to trace a line on the skin above the bandage. He puffs out a breath and leans forward to rest his forehead on Sehun’s shoulder.  
  
“I know it’s not my fault but I don’t want you to get hurt for stupid reasons. Sehun, I was fine, I would’ve managed to avoid him long enough for the others to come help. You should trust me.” Lu Han says, voice a little muffled against his skin.  
  
“I know that, I’m sorry. I really should trust that you know what you’re doing. I just— I love you so much I’m terrified something will happen to you, you know?”  
  
Lu Han leans back at that and smiles up at Sehun, all sweet and warm and a little watery.  
  
“Yeah, I understand that feeling. I get it all the time too.”  
  
Lu Han looks so trusting right now, Sehun wants to protect him forever. He just still can’t believe that Lu Han is his, and Lu Han lets out a whoosh of breath as Sehun tackles him down onto the sofa and kisses him again, pressing him against the arm of the sofa as his hands work to undo the buttons of Lu Han’s shirt. Lu Han pushes back up against him, returns his kisses with equal fervour as he keeps stroking Sehun’s back, soothing him.  
  
He knows Lu Han is thinking the same thing –  _every day could be their last_  – but he pushes that thought out of his mind as he bends to lick a stripe up Lu Han’s neck, dips his head to suck on the space between his collarbones.  
  
Lu Han lets out a moan and tips his head backwards to give Sehun more access, but when Sehun sucks harder on his collarbones, teeth nibbling on the thin skin, Lu Han pushes him away.  
  
“No marks that people can see, Sehun!” Lu Han says, breathless, but Sehun wants to mark Lu Han as his own so badly so he moves down to swirl his tongue against Lu Han’s right nipple instead, his hand flicking and pinching the other nipple at the same time. He latches on to the sensitive skin just above, presses his mouth to the smooth skin and sucks hard. Lu Han likes it, if the hand tightening in his hair and Lu Han pressing the hard ridge of his erection against Sehun’s thigh is anything to go by.  
  
Sehun keeps sucking on the spot – he wants to see it bloom red, then purple. He slips his tongue out to touch the skin and it’s that touch, hot and wet, that causes Lu Han to lose it. He’s scrabbling and bucking Sehun off to pull at Sehun’s belt buckle, making quick work of the zipper as he pushes Sehun’s underwear down together with his pants and takes Sehun’s cock in his hands, working some of the precome that’s gathered around the head.  
  
Sehun reaches for Lu Han’s buckle as well, and somewhere along the way as he manoeuvres them on the sofa, Lu Han accidentally hits Sehun’s wound. Sehun’s sharp intake of breath is enough to make Lu Han stop immediately and say, “Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby! Did I hurt you?”  
  
Sehun breathes out slowly and says, “No, no, that was good, actually.”  
  
His skin is tingling from the pain, and it’s weird, but it’s a good kind of pain. It makes his arousal even sharper and he goes back to removing Lu Han’s pants. Lu Han lifts his hips to help Sehun get them down his thighs and as soon as he’s kicked them off Sehun lines his dick up against Lu Han’s, rubbing against it to get welcome friction. Lu Han’s managed to retrieve the lotion from the side of the sofa where they’d last left it – bless Lu Han’s foresight that they’d need one for the bedroom, one for the sofa and one for the bathroom. He pours a generous amount on them both and Sehun groans in pleasure when Lu Han wraps a hand around both their erections and starts pulling them off together.  
  
Sehun could come from watching Lu Han’s expression alone, fiercely intense as he fists their cocks, eyes blown, but it’s Lu Han who comes first, spilling hard into his hand and over his stomach. Sehun knocks away Lu Han’s hand to stroke him through his orgasm, gentle but sure, until Lu Han is shivering from the overstimulation to his cock. When his breathing evens out, Sehun grabs Lu Han’s thighs and bends him over backwards, starts rubbing himself against the cleft of Lu Han’s ass. It’s the sight of Lu Han, using his hands to hold up his legs and his head thrown back, looking thoroughly debauched, that takes Sehun to the edge, his hips stuttering against Lu Han’s ass as he comes.  
  
Lu Han lets his legs fall forward again and Sehun sits back on his heels to look at him stretched out on the sofa in front of him, trusting and open, his hair a mess, and the mark he had sucked onto Lu Han blossoming into a dark maroon.  
  
He feels so helplessly in love, he needs to lean forward to press another kiss to Lu Han’s lips.  
  
“Hey,” Sehun says again, quiet. “You know I really love you, right,  _ge_?” He can feel Lu Han’s lips curve up into a smile against his own, and it’s answer enough.  
  
  
 **8.**  
  
Sehun doesn’t see Lu Han for a week after their fight. After Lu Han had almost punched him, he had slammed out of the apartment, leaving Sehun to watch him from a window as he hurried down the street which leads to the Bund. Sehun had stared blindly out of the window for a long time before he went back into their bedroom and grabbed some necessities at random, packing up so he can bunk in with Yifan.  
  
It’s all going according to plan, but he still can’t help feeling completely wretched that he’s the one responsible for Lu Han’s tears. Sehun is pretty sure their fight had not gone unseen by Master Li’s contact. He’d engineered it that Lu Han would see him receive the package so that he could publicly cut ties with Lu Han for now, now that it’s clear Master Fung does not completely trust him. He’s terrified even just thinking of how much might have been conveyed to Master Fung so far before he found the tiny tape recorder in their apartment.  
  
He takes one last look at the bed where just last night, he made Lu Han fall apart with a twist of his wrist, fingers sliding deep into Lu Han, remembers their whispered words of love as they cuddled after, before locking up.  
  
Yifan is waiting for him when he reaches his apartment, and he waits until the door is tightly shut to ask, “how did it go? Did your tail catch your argument?”  
  
Sehun nods numbly. “Yeah, I think it was kind of hard to miss Lu Han in a rage. I hope they buy it.”  
  
Yifan drops Sehun’s bag in the spare room, then pulls out a couple of cold beers to join Sehun in the living room.  
  
Sehun doesn’t blame Lu Han for reading the situation as he did. He would have done the same. He had done everything he could to push him away, after all. But he already misses Lu Han, and he tells Yifan so after another sip from the nth beer bottle.  
  
“I want to grow old with him. I want him to be happy and I want to protect him and take him away from this so we don’t have to see all this violence and live every day looking over our shoulders.”  
  
Sehun hiccoughs as he takes another swig and looks at Yifan sadly. “ _Ge_ , I just want us all to be happy.”  
  
Yifan laughs and takes the bottle away from him.  
  
“Gross. You’re really sappy when you’re drunk, Sehun. Go sleep it off. Tomorrow is another day closer to that dream and you don’t want to be hungover for that.”  
  
It takes him another week to set all the plans in motion: several meetings in secret with Tao and Yixing, whispered messages to Yifan, and furtive passing of concealed cash to Kyungsoo.  
  
It eats away at him, that he can’t talk to Lu Han freely. Master Fung keeps them apart and Sehun is careful to maintain his angry demeanour throughout any encounter he has with Lu Han at work. But at night, he dreams of Lu Han’s legs around him, his familiar voice whispering,  _Sehun ah, are you awake yet?_  in his ear in the morning.  
  
Everything goes according to plan until two days before the date Yifan had decided on for the burning of the opium warehouse. They were going to lie low until then, but he receives word from Master Fung that he believes Lu Han is a traitor and a spy, and he needs Sehun’s help to deal with the problem.  
  
Sehun’s blood turns cold when he reads the message; he barely has time to scribble a quick note to Yifan and Yixing that things are moving ahead a lot earlier than expected, before he is ushered into a waiting car.  
  
  
  
  
The ground is damp, and the sound of gravel crunching under his feet seems especially loud as Sehun draws closer to Lu Han on his knees.  
  
Sehun’s heart aches, but he’s being watched on all sides, so he jams the gun against Lu Han’s temple.  
  
He bends over Lu Han and looks at him for a moment. He needs to say this, just in case everything all goes wrong, and so he leans close and says quietly, “it’s going to be alright. You’ve got to trust me. You know I love you right,  _ge_?”  
  
Sehun presses his lips quickly to Lu Han’s cheek, then steps back and uncocks the safety hammer of his pistol. He’s praying desperately,  _“please, God, don’t let me be doing this all wrong.”_  
  
“Goodbye,” he says.  
  
Then he levels his arm and shoots.  
  
  
 **∞**  
  
Lu Han fidgets in the crowded waiting chamber, fussing with his scarf, knotting and unknotting its fringe in an effort to distract himself from checking his watch for the umpteenth time since they sat down. His hat is pulled low over his forehead, and as he shifts in his chair, he winces. The bullets may have been made of rubber, but they still hurt and he knows there are big angry bruises mottled across his back from when he checked himself in the mirror that morning.  
  
The Shanghai Longhua airport is bustling, and he keeps scanning the crowd to see if he can find the face he’s looking for, eyes full of the usual worry and love, worried that any moment he will instead see Master Fung and a bunch of the others, searching furiously for them.  
  
It isn’t until Yixing puts a hand on his knee to stop him that Lu Han realises that he’s been shaking his leg restlessly, probably for the past 15 minutes.  
  
Across them, Tao looks up. “They’ll be fine,” he says. “They’ll make it in time for the flight and we can leave this all behind.”  
  
Lu Han doesn’t trust himself to say anything right now because he knows Tao is worried too but he’s putting up a brave front. Instead he just nods and goes back to fiddling with his scarf.  
  
Several minutes later though, he ventures to ask, “What about Kyungsoo?”  
  
Tao just smiles, a sweet trusting smile that reminds Lu Han of fifteen-year-old Tao when he’d first joined the gang. “Yifan said he’s with them, and I trust him. I trust them.”  
  
Lu Han is struck by how Tao clearly believes this, he  _knows_  they’ll pull through. He thinks back to all that’s happened in the last 48 hours and realises, maybe there’s a reason for it. He can’t remember much beyond muffled voices and hands pulling at his clothes as he passed in and out of consciousness after tumbling off the cliff into the dark sea below. When he came to, it was to the familiar voices of Tao and Yixing arguing in hushed whispers.  
  
“—we need to go now, or we risk being found out altogether. Sehun only had that one chance to burn the whole warehouse of opium. Ever since he found out that most of the rookies would rather listen to Sehun or Yifan, Master Fung has been starting to get suspicious of us all.”  
  
“But Tao, I don’t think Lu Han is in a state to be moved right now.”  
  
That’s when they’d realised that he was awake and both had rushed over to check on his injuries. By the next morning, they’ve explained most of the story and Lu Han finally gets the magnitude of planning Sehun had put in for this moment: starting right from his careless flirtations with the club girls, to recruiting their friends to the cause, to gaining Master Fung’s trust in handling the opium import, to the rubber bullets he had Yifan replace in Master Fung’s personal handgun. Tao had been waiting in a boat below, and together with Yixing, he had hauled Lu Han out of the sea and brought him to the safehouse the day before.  
  
Lu Han smiles a little. Now that he has the time to think about it, it’s ridiculous how the relief of the knowledge that Sehun  _still_  loves him managed to eclipse the pain Lu Han had been in that night when Yixing had explained everything to him.  
  
There’s nothing else he can do, so Lu Han shifts in his chair and waits.  
  
  
  
  
Tao is the one who spots them first. He gets to his feet, the “ _duizhang_!” that falls from his lips hoarse with released tension as he hurries forward to envelope Yifan in a hug.  
  
Sehun breaks into a huge, wide smile when he sees Lu Han, pale but safe and sound. It’s so natural to step into the circle of his arms and sag against him in relief, letting Sehun pull him close and press a kiss to his brow.  
  
They don’t dare linger for long, and Kyungsoo starts to usher them towards the boarding gate.  
  
Lu Han slips his hand into Sehun’s as they walk and asks, “where are we going?”  
  
Sehun gives him a half exasperated, half fond look. “It’s weird being the responsible one lately! You didn’t check your ticket? Kyungsoo booked us flights to Paris. I’m not sure where we’ll go from there, but we’ll be fine as long as we have each other, right?”  
  
Lu Han squeezes Sehun’s hand tight in agreement, and he knows he understands when he squeezes back.  
  
  
 _fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Foster The People’s “Houdini”. The plot is also loosely based on the TVB drama “[No Regrets](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_Regrets_\(TV_series\))”. Thank you to my darling Y for taking the time to look this over and being so patient and encouraging. >< Any other errors (factual or grammatical) in this are my fault. In advance, I’m very sorry for any possible historical inaccuracies.
> 
> Comments and kudos are very much appreciated! <3


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